So, as I said, I didn't want to add to her stress and I had some mental health benefits in my package, so I decided to take advantage of it. Well, never having had to use a shrink before, or at least never admitting I needed it. I picked one, almost at random, whose name I liked and made an appointment.

Well, to make a long story short, there was a name for my issues. I wasn't as unique as I thought. You see, I'm a transsexual. I was born in this male body, but I'm really a female. Putting a name to it actually helped. Now, this wasn't determined over night, far from it! Looking back, it probably took me 3 or 4 sessions before I actually started telling the doctor what was really bothering me and then it was another 6 months before the Doctor acknowledged that I might be TS. I'm not really sure, but I think saying things like 'of course I don't get excited wearing woman's clothing. Why should I?" or maybe it was my envy of their receptionist who was obviously pregnant. It was probably a lot of things.

The Doc knew I'd not confided in my wife as yet. I'd told the Doc that I loved her too much to do it while she was under this kind of stress. Doc Smythe applauded my putting her needs before my own. She also made me aware that if I were to transition, and go all the way, it would be the end of our relation as it stood. There was the chance that a new relation would come out of it, but there was no way to know, until I told her. It was painful to wait, but for her, I waited. Meanwhile, I went forward on other fronts. I learned what the rules were for transitioning. Two years living 24x7 as a woman before HRT starts, then one or two more years before anything else. I believed I could have dealt with that, though I'd have preferred to start sooner. I was able to start electrolysis. That WAS not fun. Luckily Kate had no problems with that. She knew how little I liked my beard and how much it hurt to shave. That was a plus.

As time went on, Dr. Smythe told me I'd need to get a second opinion as well, and approval from the entire committee who I'd have to meet over the course of the two years of Real Life Testing. I figured; why not get the meets over with so I scheduled my second opinion sessions with another doctor in her practice. I was nervous, and he was a bit intimidating to me, once I realized how much of my future he had in his hands. Well, that session, I'll not forget. He asked me a lot of the same kind of questions Dr. Smythe had asked, and then had me take this test. It was the strangest tests I'd ever taken. I now know it was a cogiati test, as I've found version of that online and the questions were similar. After the test, he asked more questions about some of my answers. Oh boy. I was getting more nervous. I was afraid I'd flunked the test. When the session was over, he said something that should have clued me into whether I'd passed or not: "You're a very considerate young lady. Good luck." I still remember that, but, I didn't do the addition. It wasn't until my next session with Dr. Smythe when she told me that he'd recommended me that I actually realized it, and understood what he'd told me on my way out.

Oh, you're probably wondering what I was wearing for all these sessions. Well, I had a few outfits. Luckily I had a narrow waist and wore women's jeans anyway, so Kate didn't have to take them in for me. I only had one skirt, a couple blouses and not much in the way of unders. That plus my wig and some make up was it. How Kate never found it I'm not sure, but if she did, she never said anything. I drove out, parked behind a building and changed, put on my make up and wig, and would be off. Cleaning up before returning to the apartment was a bit more difficult. Most of the time I'd arrange my appointments for times when Kate was in class. That way I could use the sink and mirror to clean up. But, I did it in the car quite a number of times as well.

In any event, things went well, or as well as could be expected. She graduated at the top of her class, and got a job with a prestigious firm. She planned to take her Bars in October, and would get the results around Christmas. So I figured I'd tell her after the first of the year. I wasn't able to tell her all of it in one sitting, I guess I'd been living a double life too long and the words only partially came out. At least she was sympathetic, but a week later, when I broached the topic again, it was if she didn't remember the previous attempt. In talking to Dr. Smythe later that day, she suggested that it was either stress letdown, or denial, but I'd need to try again. As she’d just been assigned to a high profile case I decided to wait until the end of April when the trial would be over and she'd be less stressed.

Well, as they say, the best laid plans. A few days before I was going to confront her again, and get the whole story out, she gave me some good news. We were expecting. That was it, as far as I was concerned. I couldn't abandon her with our child on the way. So, I sucked up my pain and put on a good front. I've had my up and down points since then. The two biggest highs were when our two kids were born.

Well, they're now almost 18 and almost 15. Both are great kids. If you'd have looked at us, you'd have said life was pretty good. Kate's a senior Attorney at the firm, and expected that she could get elected a partner fairly soon. I changed jobs almost two years ago, to reduce work related stress. That worked, but my blood pressure was still too high, even with meds and exercise. I knew what the remaining factor in my stress was. It was the one secret I'd kept from Kate for the past 19 years, who I really was. So, I decided I had to tell her.

As before, I decided to pick a low stress time. I knew that there wouldn't be any babies on the way THIS time. I arranged a time when both of the kids were going to be away for the weekend on a retreat with the church. I thought over what I could say and decided how I'd start. I knew I couldn't script the whole thing. Who knew what would happen once I started talking.

I remember like it was yesterday telling her: "Honey, there's something I need to tell you. I've had a medical issue that I've known about for the past almost 20 years. I've hidden it, sometimes even from myself, but I need to tell you now. I'm a transsexual." That's as far as I got. That she didn't take it well, is putting it mildly. She didn't throw me out that night, well out of the house that is. I got the couch downstairs. By Sunday afternoon, when it was time to go pick up the kids, it was obvious that she wasn't talking to me. She insisted on picking up the kids, and I asked if it would help if I moved into a hotel for a week. I told her she could tell the kids that I got called out of town suddenly. She nodded, not saying anything. At that, I figured it'd be better if I was out before they got home, so I went and packed my things. I still wore ladies slacks and shoes when possible, because they fit better, but everything else was men's. I called around, and got a hotel room at a decent rate, and was off.

I hoped things would work out, and that she'd accept me, but I didn't know. I tried calling her cell twice toward the end of the week, but she didn't return my calls. Finally, she left me a voice mail saying she didn't think she could deal with it, that she needed more time to think. I left her a message back that I'd leave her alone for another week, but I missed her and the kids.

I think it was that last that got her to call me eventually, but I don't know. I'd like to think she still had some feelings for me, but I was scared. She agreed to meet me at a restaurant where we could talk.

The conversation went, I guess. She at least asked me if I knew what I'd said and what it meant. When I started to explain it, she stopped me and said she'd looked it up. Her next question really surprised me, asking if it were a mid-life crisis or something. I shook my head sadly, and reminded her that I'd said I'd known for almost 20 years what the condition was called. This was apparently not the right thing to say, as she started asking why I hadn't told her sooner. When I tried to explain it she got fed up and left me. I paid the bill, and wondered how I got into this miss. No, I knew how, but I wondered why it had to happen to me. I'd thought she would at least hear me out. First in the house and then in the restaurant; she couldn’t listen.

Two days later, at work, I got a letter from a lawyer saying he was representing her in filing for divorce. That told me it was all over. I didn't fight her on this, though it hurt me a lot. And, the restraining order telling me to stay away from the three of them hurt more than anything. I decided to go ahead and try to transition at this late date, since I felt there was little reason not to. Maybe I could live the rest of my life as myself.